


a coffee shop that forgot to close

by TrashiestofTrash



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, M/M, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-18 19:46:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13107249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashiestofTrash/pseuds/TrashiestofTrash
Summary: The snow flutters on outside, and Matt and Pidge’s computers lie completely abandoned in search of Christmas cheer. Lance works on skillfully hanging a cheap tinsel garland around the windows, and catches himself grinning at his friends. Mariah Carey continues to blare from Lance’s phone.And then a customer walks in.





	a coffee shop that forgot to close

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Margarita Cult Secret Santa 2017! I had a lot of fun writing this, hope the recipient enjoys it as well!

“It’s almost Christmas.” Allura states one day, her head resting in her hands as she gazes out the window, her eyes tracing the path of the snowflakes flying and tapping at the glass. “We ought to decorate or something.” 

“It’s only December 12th. We’ve got time.”

“Are you kidding? It’s only two weeks away!”

The only people in the shop were him, Allura, and the regulars: the Holt siblings, who were sitting at a table and discussing something in their own forbidden genius language. Hunk had taken off early. Lance smiles. “Is it actually that close? In that case, wanna do it now?”

“I’d love to, but we’re still technically open.”

“It’s uh--” he checks his phone, “--11 o’clock, on a Tuesday. Pretty sure the only customers we’re getting are the Nerd Squad.” There’s a protestful “Hey--!” coming from Matt’s end of the table, but nothing else comes of it. 

Allura huffs a bit, but it’s out of fake distress. “I’ll go get the decorations.” Lance catches her smiling as she disappears into the backroom.

“Can I help?” Pidge looks up at him, rising from her seat and eyes eager. “...Please?”

Allura laughs, returning from the back room with a box of promisingly colorful decor. “Of course. Alright, all of you. Let’s do this.” 

“Hell yeah.” Lance pumps a fist up. “Let’s Christmas it up!”

Over the next course of the hour, there’s a flurry of lights and and cheap party decorations, all of which were threatening to come apart but adding to the festivity and joy nonetheless. All had been accumulated over the course of the three years the shop had been open. Lance’s phone blared a specially arranged Christmas mix, adding to the excitement. The lights flickered, the paper chains were unsticking, but it felt like some type of beautiful, messy Christmas. This was his favorite part of the year, he had decided. There was something fantastic in the lights and color this time of year, something that brought them all close together. 

He had taken the job on a whim, with an excited Allura unveiling the plan to him and Hunk at lunch one day. Hunk seemed interested, claiming that while coffee had never really been his thing, he was eager to give it a shot. Anything to beat out those leading coffee chains, and serve his customers something truly good. Lance himself had been unsure, but the pushing and prodding of his friends caused him to give in and offer to work part time if she was able to get her business of the ground. 

Thinking back on it now, he couldn’t believe he was ever skeptical. Over time, they had developed a specific set of regulars, all coming in at set days and times with specific orders. It was busy sometimes, but there was something so oddly relaxing about the hustle of it all. Somewhere along that hustle, he became acquainted with the Holts, a pair of geniuses with a craving for a specific blend of coffee only available at one specific location. A bond of friendship soon developed from that, and the Holts felt as if they were as much of a part of the business as Allura and Hunk. 

The snow flutters on outside, and Matt and Pidge’s computers lie completely abandoned in search of Christmas cheer. Lance works on skillfully hanging a cheap tinsel garland around the windows, and catches himself grinning at his friends. Mariah Carey continues to blare from Lance’s phone. 

And then a customer walks in. 

There’s a collective moment of “oh shit, we forgot to change the sign from open to closed” between Lance and Allura, as both of them leap over the counter to try and handle this midnight customer. 

The customer, who is certainly not a regular and certainly not a regular person, is not wearing a fucking jacket. He appears to be one of those who tries to play down the cold, but his shiver and the crown of snowflakes in his hair give away his actual feelings on the matter. He’s trembling, stepping back and forth and holding himself as his eyes scan the menu. “Coffee.” 

Allura begins to go into a spiel on how she’s so sorry but they’ve actually closed for the night, but Lance gives her a signal, saying that he’s got this. He puts on a perfect mix between a customer service smile and a far flirtier smile, and asks, “What size?”

“Large.”

“Regular or iced?”

“Are you kidding me--”

He laughs, “Yeah, man. For here or to go?”

He scans the room, spotting a Pidge and a Matt holding a string of lights up, watching this strange customer with a shared curiosity. “Here.”

“Alright. Give me a second. Any cream or sugar--”

“No.”

“O-kay then.” 

The customer takes a seat at one of the many empty tables, as Lance’s odd taste in Christmas music continues to play. He keeps rubbing his arms, trying to stay warm. Everyone else resumes their places in the decoration as Lance works on his drink. It feels a lot quieter now, even with the eighth repetition of Mariah Carey continuing to play on. At one point, he swears he hears the customer humming along to it. 

“Alright, Mr. Midnight Customer, your order’s ready.” He moves over to the counter, and his eyes curiously catch on his nametag. 

“Thank you… Lance.” 

“No problem, uh… what’s your name, again?”

He takes the cup into his hands, embracing the warmth in his hands. “Keith.”

“Nice to meet you, Keith. Feel free to chill with us as long as you want.” Something like a smile graces his lips as he murmurs a thank you, pays, and sits back down. Allura squabbles beside him, and tries to tell him that the stores meant to be closed. 

“It’s Christmas, and I think he’s gonna die if we keep him outside.” She rolls her eyes, and resumes her work decorating the store. Lance stands beside the counter, then leaps over it again. And walks straight over to Keith. 

“Hey, man,” He sits down across from Keith. “You, uh, gonna explain why you don’t have a jacket?”

Something red dusts his cheeks, and Lance can’t tell if it’s from the cold or something else. “I thought it was gonna be hot today. I guess I was wrong.” 

“But it’s winter--”

“Listen,” he stares him dead in the eye as he takes a sip of his still-scorching coffee, “I’m sleep deprived.” 

Lance nods. “Gotcha. Actually--” He stands up, and disappears into the back room, leaving Keith confused. He returns a short time later, holding a jacket. It looks awfully inviting. He shoves it in his face. “Here. It should help you a little bit.”

Keith actually freezes up at the gesture, and just stares at it for a long while. He reaches out to grab it, his fingers brushing the fabric but not actually accepting it. “I can’t--”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve been in here for hours, I’m not cold at all.” He takes the jacket, his ears burning red.

“Thank you.” It doesn’t quite fit him right, slightly oversized. It’s likely due to the slight size difference between them, probably just enough to cause Lance to get his clothing a size up.  
Lance looks away, finding this whole exchange going different than he had expected it to go. He didn’t mind it though. 

At that moment, Allura emerges from the back room, beaming and holding a small, personal Christmas tree, the type typically reserved for a dorm room. “I found it!” Pidge cheers, and Keith looks up to Lance. 

“It’s our mini Christmas tree. We can’t afford a real one, so we work with this little guy. We decorate him every year.” Pidge motions for Lance to go over and help them decorate. “Sorry, I can’t miss out on decorating the tree.” 

Keith watches them all decorate from his table, watching them laugh as they wrap a string of flickering lights around its branches. There’s something strangely personal about this coffee shop, just from what he’s gathered by being here. The way they all worked together, it felt more like a true friendship than a customer-employee interaction. He couldn’t exactly name many establishments where the barista offered up his coat to a cold a shivering customer. 

The barista in question catches his eye again, and moves back over to his table. “Hey, uh, wanna help us decorate?”

He would’ve been lying if he said no. Which is why he didn’t. 

Over the course of the next twenty minutes, he works with complete strangers, and somehow joins their circle of friends. He learns their names from the banter, and sticks close to Lance, who gives him notes about the others. He told him all of their little traditions, like how they couldn’t put the star up because someone named Hunk wasn’t here, and how you had to be careful with the lights in case they broke. Little things like that brought him into their circle, and it felt… right, almost, as if this weird coffee shop’s Christmas spirit was what he had been missing his entire life. 

He turns to Lance when he thinks they’re done, and he smiles and nods. There’s something in his smile that feels so warm and inviting, like something he doesn’t want to be leaving any time soon. 

“I’ve actually gotta get going,” Lance says, checking his phone, “It’s pretty late.” Keith nods, understanding that it was pretty late for most people. He begins shrugging off his jacket and handing it back to him. But he puts up a hand in protest. “Nah, keep it.”

“What?”

“Well not like, forever. You’ll just have to give it back to me at some point.” He grins. “Think of it as my way of ensuring that you come back soon.”

The floor suddenly becomes a lot more interesting to Keith, as his eyes trace the patterns in the tile. “What if I don’t come back? You’re way too trusting of a guy you just met.” 

“Well, worst case scenario, I buy a new jacket, and I realize that I wasted an hour being nice to a total asshole. But I dunno,” he tilts his head, “I’d feel really bad leaving someone out in the cold without a jacket.” 

Keith’s ears go red again. “Thank you.”

Sometime after the whole encounter, once Keith is sitting alone in his car and watching the snowflakes fall, his hands reach into the pocket of his jacket. His fingers run across something smooth and crumpled. It’s his receipt from the coffee shop--

And written on the back is Lance’s name and number, accompanied by a drawing of himself. And with that, he decides that this coffee shop was going to be one he frequented a lot.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr over at appleshavecaffeine.tumblr.com feel free to check it out if you feel like it :v


End file.
